Tag Archives: Cellulitis

One year ago today I was lying in a hospital bed at UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center, extremely groggy and extremely happy. Part of it was from the pain medication, I’ll admit, but most of that happiness was caused by an overwhelming sense of relief.

Some women wait years between testing positive for a BRCA mutation and having a prophylactic mastectomy. I waited 140 days. 140 days of discontent. 140 days of suspicion. 140 days of self-loathing. 140 days of feeling like a stranger in my own body.

I went into my mastectomy on the morning of March 13, 2012 with anxiety and excitement, not knowing what would come next. I woke up in the afternoon without my breasts, but with the wonderful feeling of peace. A weight had been lifted: I wouldn’t have to think about breast cancer all the time, and I could get back to loving myself again.

One year later, I can say with confidence that I am once again glad to be me, Rachel Joy Horn. I don’t feel broken anymore, and I’m not living in fear of my body.

It’s been an interesting year, but looking back on it, certain moments that at the time felt awful were just hiccups along the way. Those Jackson-Pratt drains were horrendous, they really were–but whatever. My family didn’t care about them. My boyfriend didn’t mind them. My friends didn’t think they were weird. Despite them being a huge inconvenience to dressing like a normal human being, they didn’t stop me from having fun and being social.

At the time it was playing out, it felt as if the cellulitis infection and subsequent tissue expander removal would ruin my life. I literally sat in the hospital bed, Googling freezing-cold places I could escape to so I would never have to be seen in a swimsuit. But then I found a cotton prosthesis, and my mom made me a kick-ass mastectomy bikini with a waterproof falsie. And so I had One Ugly Summer…One Fun, Sunny, Active, Flat-Chested-on-the-Left-Side Ugly Summer.

One Ugly Summer…

Over the last year, I’ve learned that I have horrible veins and that I have fabulous friends. I’ve discovered that narcotics can give you migraines and that social networking can give you an incredible support community. I’ve realized that talking to doctors is crucial, just as talking to strangers is–you never know who understands and how they can help.

Sometimes I miss my breasts, or more specifically, my breast tissue. It’s a rare moment that I get jealous of another girl’s rack, but it happens. (I’m looking at you, Sports Illustrated cover Kate Upton.) My new boobs are not perfect…but then again, neither were my old ones. They are, however, mine, all 800 ccs and 14.2 cm of them, and they fit me. There are even glorious times when I think that I am the luckiest girl in the world for having them, like when I can wear a backless dress without a bra and not worry about sagging.

Okay, so I’ve never actually worn this dress…but just knowing that I CAN wear it is what matters.

For all of the women going through breast reconstruction right now, I ask you to please be patient. I know that it can seem very disheartening, what with all the scars and the weird shapes and the rippling. But things will look better, just wait…and maybe ask your plastic surgeon about some nipping and tucking.

To my friends and family, thank you for the flowers, the pillows, the sweet treats, the fuzzy elephants, the magazines, the nail polish, the phone calls, the text messages, the cards, the hospital visits…the love.

To acquaintances who have reached out to me with words of support and encouragement, thank you for your courage to speak up.

To my work colleagues, thank you for understanding my circumstances and for accommodating me with such graciousness.

To the wonderful ladies online going through something similar, thank you for your bravery and for your willingness to share your experiences to help me and others like me.

One year has gone by so fast, and I know part of that is thanks to all of you. Before I know it, I’ll have had my implants for ten years and it’ll be time to replace them. But let’s not rush that. =)

That’s right. You read that correctly: I GET MY SILICONE IMPLANTS ON MONDAY.

I’m going to be honest with you–that’s something I never in a million years would have expected to ever say, write or even think in my life. Me? Breast implants? Nah, never, not for me…but it’s happening! I’ll eat those thoughts with a fork and spoon (just not after midnight on Sunday).

After more than one year since finding out about my BRCA mutation and more than eight months since my original mastectomy, I am finally going to be done with surgery. I almost don’t believe it’s real, but it is–two breasts, four Jackson-Pratt drains, three tissue expanders, one cellulitis infection, two falsies and many wireless bras later.

I had a pre-op appointment with Dr. Festekjian on November 8. He told me my implants will either be 700 ccs or 800 ccs, most likely Natrelle style 45 silicone. A few posts earlier I said that I probably wouldn’t get those implants because they’re very narrow, but Dr. Festekjian knows that I am most concerned about projection and they offer the highest projection. The total size of the implant (700 vs 800 ccs) depends on the width he needs to cover (13.5 cm or 14.2 cm).

At this point I’ve really stopped worrying about what size my implants will be. I trust Dr. Festekjian’s judgment completely. He did such a good job with my tissue expanders; people are always surprised to find out that my tissue expanders aren’t actually my permanent breast implants.

The night before my surgery I plan to take some photos of my chest with tissue expanders. I really want to create a visual of the different “stages” of breast reconstruction. The final stage photos won’t be ready for a few weeks since there will be swelling after the surgery.

It’s time to think about implant sizing! YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! [as I type this, I imagine children across America are cheering with delight–because the only thing better than Christmas coming early is that annoying girl with the blog getting her damn breast implants already!]

But seriously. It really is time for me to start thinking about what size I want my implants to be. No pressure, though. I’ll only be stuck with them for ten to fifteen years.

On Thursday morning I had a tissue expander fill with Dr. Festekjian. He filled me up with 75 ccs on the left–yowza, slow down there, Dr. F! No but please don’t, 75 ccs was awesome, thank you. I am now at 525 ccs on the left and 550 ccs on the right. We’re almost even!!!!

At next week’s fill with Maria, I will get 75 ccs on the left and 50 ccs on the right, putting me at 600 ccs on each side. I’m sure what you all want to know is what cup size is that?!

Yes, I’d like to know that, too. So this morning I started to investigate.

The world of tissue expanders and breast implants is terrifying. I have emerged from the deep, dark pit of the Interwebz even more confused than when I started.

This is what I have discovered: I have two Natrelle Style 133SX tissue expanders. They are each 14 cm wide. According to the Natrelle catalog, they have a height of 12 cm and a projection of 7.1 cm and are considered “extra-projection range.” What does that all mean? No idea.

At this point, I am abandoning the science of it until I can talk with Dr. Festekjian, Maria or Jeani about it in person next week. Instead, I am going to play a kind of twisted form of dress up: the Breast Implant Rice Test! Or, in my case, The Breast Implant Israeli Couscous Test!

A few months ago, Jeani explained this test to me but I brushed it off as pretty much ridiculous. However I came across it again today and decided to just try it. 7/8 cup of Israeli couscous and a knee-high nylon sock (sorry Mom) in hand, I ventured into my room.

If “gummy bears” are the Prada of the implant world and silicone is the Coach, then Israeli couscous and nylons must be the Walmart brand.

Why 7/8 cup of Israeli couscous? Well, the handy little chart from www.justbreastimplants.com said that 1 cup of rice was roughly equivalent to 236 ccs, while 3/4 cup was about 177 ccs. Since my tissue expanders can hold a maximum of 750 ccs and my right expander is currently at 550 ccs, I wanted to experiment with about 200 ccs…so 7/8 cup of couscous sounded accurate.

Here’s the results–keep in mind I only tried the test on my right breast, since my left tissue expander is still a few ccs smaller:

Now obviously it looks a bit awkward with the rest of the nylon sticking out, but the test was more successful than I expected.

Yet I still don’t know how I feel about the size potential! The fact is that tissue expanders are shaped differently than breast implants. I need to find out from Dr. Festekjian what kind of implant he plans to use. Right now, when I look at myself head-on, my chest seems to be very filled out; but when I see myself from the side, it still seems very small. I guess this has to do with the tissue expander being wide?

Perhaps next weekend I will try the rice test again, but on both sides (since they’ll finally be the same size again!)

Can anyone speak to their experience with implant sizing?

In other news, I’m sick–but don’t worry, it’s (for once) NOT related to my tissue expanders! On Tuesday I started to develop a sore throat, and by Wednesday afternoon I could barely talk. I stayed home sick from work on Thursday. I felt AWFUL…couldn’t swallow because my throat was so sore, couldn’t sleep…finally saw a doctor on Friday and I’m on antibiotics now. I know, right–more antibiotics?! Ha. Let’s hope I don’t get sick for years after this, because all that nasty little bacteria is going to be SO antibiotic-resistant!

I’m feeling much better today. My mom is coming home today from Yosemite. I heard my dad on the phone with her yesterday, remarking about how I was a horrible patient. (Note to Dad: Yeah, yeah, stick it in your ear. Who do you think I got it from anyway? Plus, here’s a direct quote from “Jewish as a Second Language“, the book you gave me to read: “…should illness or injury strike you, it’s your duty to stay sick as long as you can. Keep using those crutches. Prop them up where everyone can see them. Flash that sling. Enlarge that bandage. Who knows when you’ll be dealt this card again?“)

It’s a good thing Mom is coming home now, because it’s probably her fault I’m sick. Let’s think about this for a minute: where was my mom when I got my cellulitis infection? The Grand Canyon. Where was my mom when I thought I had another infection a few weeks ago? Yosemite. Where was my mom when I got sick this past week? Yosemite, again.

COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT! Once again, my mom has found a way to SINGLE-HANDEDLY ruin my life.

OK, I’ll stop dicking around now–I hope you all know I’m just being a brat for the sake of humor and that it’s an inside joke with my mom that was started in like, middle school.

I only mention being sick this week because, as much as it sucks, it’s kind of cool in a way that it wasn’t related to my mastectomy or reconstruction at all! It was just because I’m a normal person who can contract normal person contagions from other normal people. I’m normal, ya’ll!

Well, this is the longest I’ve gone without posting…I know I know, I’m a bad blogger! But better late than never.

Now, I know you’re all dying to hear about my trip to Vegas. I’d like to tell you about how awesome it was and how much richer it made me, but sadly I cannot report those glorious things…because I didn’t go! Whomp whomp…

On Friday afternoon (August 24) I left work early for my scheduled fill with Maria, Dr. Festekjian’s wonderful nurse. I was supposed to go straight from UCLA to Long Beach where I would meet my friends and we’d hit the road to Las Vegas. But at the appointment, Maria noticed a slightly red spot on my left breast.

DUN DUN DUNNNNN (onomatopoeia anyone?). Red spots are not good, especially not for Her Royal Majesty the Queen of Cellulitis. I was pretty peeved because that spot had NOT been there in the morning.

Maria of course did the right thing by exercising caution, and in retrospect I’m glad she did—but believe me, in that moment I was not too pleased. I mean, come on…say it with me now…REALLY?! SERIOUSLY?! A RED SPOT…AGAIN?! #$*)(#@*$R JFAJFDSAF*#!)$#!

She decided to call Dr. Festekjian and consult with him. Well it just so happens that the good man himself was already stopping by UCLA (he spent the day working at the VA) so he came in to investigate. He poked and prodded for a while before determining that “he was not impressed.”

HOWEVER…given my history of infection, Dr. Festekjian decided to put me on antibiotics. He also advised that I avoid submerging myself in water (read: no swimming) and that I avoid sweating excessively (read: no 100 degree heat). Well, damn. Vegas in the summer without drinking, swimming and sweating just didn’t sound like very much fun.

Neither Dr. Festekjian nor Maria suggested I cancel my trip, but Dr. Festekjian did say that if the red spot worsened, I would need to come back in and possibly start IV antibiotics. BLEH! The thought of driving all the way to Vegas just to turn around and drive all the way back to Los Angeles was not very appealing.

I consulted my friends about it and they all agreed that it was not worth risking my health just for one weekend. We were able to reschedule the trip, and my friends still had fun doing touristy things around LA (they’re from Northern California). Side note: As much as it upset me to not be able to go to Vegas, I was still very touched by my friends’ response to the sudden change in plans. They were all so understanding and flexible, and even served as a sort of voice of reason for me when I was trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

Even though we didn’t make it to Vegas, we still had a fun weekend. Thanks Kim, Jo and Jill!

OK, so fast forward to this past Thursday. I went to UCLA to see Dr. Festekjian, and he confirmed that the red spot was gone and that we could proceed with my tissue expander fills. I am pretty sure the red spot was probably not an infection; if anything, I think I just slept on my tissue expander wrong and the pressure created that discoloration. But I am happy that we did not just dismiss it. I’ve come too far on this road to let it get screwed up, so being cautious is necessary.

Since Dr. Festekjian and Maria decided against giving me a fill that previous Friday, I was behind 50 ccs. I did manage to talk Dr. Festekjian into giving me 75 ccs during Thursday’s appointment. So now I’m at 400 ccs on the left and 550 ccs on the right. We’re catching up, baby!

My next tissue expander fill is on Friday afternoon, and after that I’ll be…wait for it…MOVING INTO MY NEW APARTMENT!

Yep, that’s right. I’m saying GOODBYE to my parents’ place in Redondo Beach and moving out into the real world! I managed to find a relatively-inexpensive (by LA standards) apartment a few miles from my office. The biggest perk will definitely be skipping out on all of the traffic I’ve come to love loathe.

But I will miss my puppy Madeline and my mommy packing me lunch. =( Give it two weeks and I’ll be begging my parents to take me back!

I love Hendrix. Also, that is Bryce’s hand, not mine. I do not have man thumbs.

I hope everyone had a great Labor Day. Bryce, Hendrix, and I spent the weekend up in Yosemite. I’m happy to report that I went kayaking on the lake twice and I even worked on my shot at the archery range. It’s been about ten years since I last touched an archery bow so I’m a wee bit rusty, but I’ll be back to my Katniss status in no time.

The kayaking and archery did make me think a lot about my upper body strength. When all of my surgeries are over (hopefully November) I think my next “project” will be getting some freakin’ muscle. I am such a weakling! Does anyone have any suggestions for upper body workouts? And keep in mind that I have a very short attention span when it comes to exercise. Fun and shiny=good!

Oh you know, just training for the Hundred Years’ War. BATTLE OF AGINCOURT, YEAH! [/nerd]

Hi everyone. I apologize for not writing in a few days. While it’s true that I am insanely bored at the hospital, by the time I actually have a free moment to sit down and type out a blog post, I am usually exhausted and my eyes hurt too much so I nap instead. This one, however, is going to be exceptionally long. Get ready!

The last time I posted was Friday morning. My IV port had to be changed again since the Vancomycin beat up the first one too much. A new IV was put into my right hand.

Around noon I had an ultrasound on my left breast to check for fluid pockets. Images from the ultrasound revealed that there was one big pocket (I think about 5 cms) and possibly two smaller pockets. A few hours later, I was taken back to radiology to have that pocket aspirated. The radiologists inserted Lidocaine into the area to numb it up then used an ultrasound to locate the exact location of the fluid pocket. They then inserted a big ol’ needle into the area to extract it. In reality, the needle wasn’t very big at all, but since the ultrasound video magnified it it seemed like an eight-inch needle was poking around my body.

The fluid from this pocket was sent for a gram stain and a culture. The initial gram stain did not reveal any bacteria; however the culture could still grow into something after a few days.

When I returned from the aspiration, I noticed that the infection seemed to have spread around my breast. It all seemed very red. I was nervous. Friday was a very emotional day for me; I spent a lot of time crying and wallowing in self-pity.

My parents finally found out I was in the hospital on Friday evening. They had been on a road trip to the Grand Canyon since Tuesday April 24. I did NOT want to ruin their vacation by telling them about my hospitalization. I know, I know…I’ve heard from plenty of moms that it wasn’t MY choice if my parents wanted to come back early, and that parents want to know everything no matter the circumstances. But honestly, my family has had really bad luck when it comes to family illnesses and vacations and they deserved to see the Grand Canyon. Plus, I knew that my parents were planning to head up to our house in Yosemite after visiting the Grand Canyon. I wasn’t overly fussed about them not missing the Yosemite portion of the trip, since they can go up north another time. Instead of leaving Barstow to head north on Saturday morning, they stayed south to get into Los Angeles.

By noon on Saturday they were at the hospital. It was nice having them there, because they are medical-savvy and know how to talk to doctors. Having been through her own double mastectomy, my mom is familiar with the terms, processes, and side-effects. My dad, on the other hand (or should I say “foot”…wait for it!) , spent quite a few months in and out of UCSF in 2011 due to an infection on his feet. He had an IV of Vancomycin, too.

My friend Kaitlin stopped by the hospital on Saturday afternoon. It was such a pleasant surprise. She brought with her a book and an adorable little stuffed animal elephant. I immediately latched onto the fluffy gray creature. His name is Kapow and he’s my lucky elephant.

Kapow transfers some of his luck to me, trunk to nose.

On Sunday my infection did look better, and my veins were feeling even worse. The Vancomycin is so harsh that it burns my veins. Every time a drop went through the IV port on my hand, I could feel it sting. We had to take that IV port out. A transport nurse tried to place another IV; he poked me one more time and it still didn’t work. At that point, he made it clear that I couldn’t be poked anymore because the risk of infection was too high. If they wanted to put in any more antibiotics or draw anymore blood, I would need a PICC line, but the staff members who put in PICCs don’t work on the weekends.

Dr. Galanis, the Chief Plastics Resident at UCLA, came by to say that he was putting me on an oral antibiotic for the day and night and that I should be prepared to go into surgery on Monday morning, which meant no eating or drinking after midnight. Nothing was for sure yet, but the fact that my infection was getting worse was an obvious bad sign. If you want to see what the infection looked like before my surgery, please email me. It’s not a pretty pic, but I’m happy to send it to you if you think you have an infection.

It was very relaxing not being connected to an IV at all on Sunday. I could shower and actually use both hands (during the first shower I had a plastic glove over my hand to protect the IV) and I could move around without worrying about accidentally pulling out the IV. I spent a lot of Sunday reading the book Kaitlin brought over, calledBitter Is the New Black by Jen Lancaster. It was a quick and somewhat mindless read about a former sorority girl turned business exec turned unemployed mess. I breezed through the entire book in one day, and was pleased by the happy ending, in which the writer gets a book deal! (Oh please let that be MY happy ending!)

On Sunday at midnight I started my eating and drinking fast. Not eating was easy. The heavy antibiotics have temporarily killed my taste buds and ruined my digestive system; whatever I eat comes out the other end pretty quickly. That doesn’t give me much incentive to eat. Drinking, however, is difficult; since I’m so used to being poked for veins, my natural reaction is to drink as much water as possible in order to plump them up. But I had to avoid the water so I wouldn’t be sick if I needed anesthesia.

On Monday morning my parents came over early, as did members of Dr. Festekjian’s team (Dr. Galanis included). They said it was highly likely that I would have the tissue expander removed, but they would leave the ultimate decision to Dr. Festekjian. He came in about an hour later and told me it would have to go because we were “fighting a losing battle.” At that point, I didn’t care anymore. I had read online about many women who stayed on some awful antibiotics for weeks, suffering the side effects, only to have to remove the tissue expander anyway.

Around 11 am I had a PICC line installed. A PICC line is a central venous catheter, a more permanent form of an IV; it goes through the arm and hooks up with a major blood vein near the heart. It can withstand the beatings from tough drugs like Vancomycin, and it can also be used to draw blood. While I’m here, I’ll never have to be poked again! Whoohoo!

Around 1 pm I was taken down to the OR to have my tissue expander removed. I woke up later in the recovery room and demanded ice. Whatever anesthesia they give me at UCLA is great; I am never nauseous after waking up and can guzzle water like it’s my job.

I was moved back up to my room about half an hour later. Someone from Dr. Festekjian’s team (I was still kind of out of it so I don’t remember who) came by to tell me that they had found some additional spots of infection near the tissue expander. They are culturing those right now.

In order to give me some nourishment, I’ve been hooked up to an IV drip since yesterday. There was also a drip for pain meds.

I felt fine when I woke up today. In the afternoon Dr. Galanis took a peek at my left breast (or total lack thereof at this point!) and said it was still red but it looked better. I have only seen the top of it through the tight bandage; it looks like a wrinkly skin crater. Ewwwww.

My parents visited in the morning, and then I was surprised by two friends from work, Garineh and Mia. They came with a card signed by everyone who sits around my desk and a Jamba Juice…perfect! Jamba Juice is the only food I’ve been eating. About an hour before they arrived, some beautiful yellow flowers were also delivered from my team at Demand Media.

Mia (on the left) and Garineh (right) came to visit me from work! Please note my lovely halter bra and drain. Yep, I have another drain.

And now I am going to tell you all the highlight of today…drumroll please…

I got to see a doggy!!!! After hounding (bahaha) the UCLA People Animal Connection for three days, we were finally successful in getting a real live dog to visit me. His name is Scout and he’s 10 1/2 years old. He’s a German Shepard mix and he is so sweet. He sat on my bed and let me pet him for half an hour. His owner, Beth, told me about the strict requirements for volunteer dogs. It was very impressive–she should be proud that her dog was accepted at UCLA!

Scout was so friendly!

I hope that I can continue to bother the People Animal Connection in order to receive visits from more of my four-legged friends. Animals brighten my day so much. I must figure out a way to sneak Madeline inside. Let me know if you have any ideas! Now off to bed.

Yesterday I went to my 3 pm tissue expander fill at Dr. Festekjian’s office, which I was pretty sure would not actually be a fill since my left breast looked so swollen and red. Maria looked at it and agreed that Dr. Festekjian should definitely check it out. He came in, asked me about the time frame of what happened (I slept on my tissue expanders on Saturday night, felt pain on Sunday morning, etc.), and then examined the area. He then looked at me and said, “You have to go to the hospital.”

For a second there I wasn’t sure if he was trying to like, joke with me or something. I just kind of stared at him. He didn’t ask any questions or do any tests, just–“hospital!”

Then I started to get pretty upset. He mentioned the word “cellulitis” and said that I needed to get an IV with some heavy antibiotics. I asked him how often he sees this; he said each year, typically three or four patients will have cellulitis after a mastectomy…which is out of about 140 mastectomy patients. SWEET. Of course it would happen to me, the “young and healthy” patient.

He said he would take care of the arrangements to get me admitted next door at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center (the hospital portion). After about 15 minutes, Maria came into the room and told me they were ready for me at admissions.

Now it’s lucky, I guess, that I am constantly driving from home to home (my apartment, my parents’ place, Bryce’s house) and half of my life is in my car. We walked down there and I was able to grab my laptop and charger as well as some clean clothes. The car itself presented a new problem: what was I supposed to do with it? UCLA is not very flexible with their patients when it comes to parking. Maria said I could leave my car there overnight, but unless someone took it out of the parking garage, went back in to get a new ticket, and parked in a new spot, I would get a parking ticket. Luckily my friend Kate said she’d help figure out the parking situation.

As we walked over to the hospital, I asked Maria what the next few days would be like. She said I should expect to be at the hospital for the entire weekend since Dr. Festekjian would be the one to make the ultimate decision to discharge me. She explained that over the course of the next few days, I would be given an IV drip of antibiotics in order to try to fight a broad range of bacteria (cellulitis, I’ve since learned, is just the name for a general bacterial skin infection.) If the antibiotics work successfully, the area will be monitored and given a few weeks to rest before my tissue expander fills continue.

If the antibiotics don’t work…well, this is the fun part of which I am really terrified: the tissue expander will be removed for at least two or three months.

I think we can all agree that the latter option sounds awful. Given those two choices, I definitely support the IV antibiotics route! (Though it’s not like I have an actual say in this…what Festekjian wants, Festekjian gets.)

Around 4:15 pm I completed admissions papers at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. I was finally assigned a room on the sixth floor (6347 West) around 5:00 pm. There’s a view of UCLA’s football field, and I can see the helipad–pretty cool.

To the left is the UCLA football field; to the top right is the helipad.

For the next few hours, I sat around…doing nothing. My lovely roomie Danielle showed up around 6 pm with salads and GIANT chocolate chip cookies. I was ravenous, and that meal hit the spot!

Someone came in to draw blood around 6:30 pm. FAIL. My veins are awful, I know. Everyone tells me how nonexistent they are. In the past, however, I’ve never actually had a problem getting blood drawn. He stabbed my left arm and a few minutes later dumped the vials into the toxic waste bin, saying “I’ll have to call in someone else.” He hadn’t gotten any blood!

I started chugging water. This was my first “surprise” blood test; usually I know it’s coming so I drink a lot of water the day before and morning of in order to plump up my veins.

Another woman came in about twenty minutes later. She continued to poke and prod me, looking for a good vein. Nope.

Bryce and his mom showed up later in the evening, which was a pleasant surprise. I had told Bryce not to worry about visiting me the first night since he was planning on spending the night at the hospital on Friday. My friend Kate, who goes to UCLA, also dropped by…with snacks and tampons! AND she was able to find a parking spot for my car–what a lifesaver!

Another phlebotomy specialist came in. He looked much more serious than the first two…he meant business! I explained that I really hated needles and would appreciate if he could apply some numbing cream before poking me. He spent a good deal of time lifting up my arms and using a tourniquet to try to find a vein. Finally he settled on a vein on the side of my left wrist. He applied the cream, and about fifteen minutes later, stuck in the needle. And…there was nothing. He poked around with the needle, trying to strike gold with a vein. NOPE.

He had to call in the big guns: an ICU nurse. Together, they poked and prodded even more. Finally, the ICU nurse (who was hilarious, by the way; a Londoner who my dad would have loved) zeroed in on a vein in the elbow crevice of my right arm. He slapped at it for a good three minutes, and as soon as it popped up again, he went for it…and there was success! We all clapped. At least not all of the efforts were in vain! (…pun…hahaha)

They took two vials of blood and also used that area for my IV port. Around 10 pm my nurse hooked up the antibiotics to the IV. Finally, treatment!

I know one of the antibiotics was Vancomycin, and boy, did it make my head itch!!! I learned online that an itching scalp is a common reaction from Vancomycin and that Benadryl should help it. My nurse injected some Benadryl into my IV, the itching stopped, and I finally got to sleep.

Members of the plastic surgery team (Maria included) woke me up bright and early at 7 am today. I don’t know when they arrived at work, but I’m still amazed at how happy and put-together they all were. Give me a break! I’m lying in bed with hair like Einstein’s from all of the itching, and then these beautiful, smiling people suddenly surround me. It was a sneak attack!

Maria checked on my left breast and said that it already looked to be improving. YES!

Cellulitis, you are EVIL. I need to do more research on the topic, but I’ve gathered the following from WebMD:

“Cellulitis is a skin infection caused by bacteria. Normally, your skin helps protect you from infection. But if you have a cut, sore, or insect bite, bacteria can get into the skin and spread to deeper tissues. If it is not treated with antibiotics, the infection can spread to the blood or lymph nodes. This can be deadly.”

“At first, the infected area will be warm, red, swollen, and tender. As the infection spreads, you may have a fever, chills, and swollen glands.”

Well, that all sounds accurate to me: I had a major surgery involving a cut, the area is definitely red and swollen, and I really started to feel sick when I developed a fever.

Today I will have an ultrasound of my left breast to make sure there isn’t any fluid buildup. If there is, it will need to be drained. Fingers crossed there’s no fluid!

Well, that’s it for now. My nurse just started another IV drip. Check back for more updates on Cellulitis 2012!

Hi, I'm Rachel, your average twentysomething. I'm in a sorority, I just graduated from college and started my first full-time job, and oh yeah, I recently had a double mastectomy! Welcome to my world of BRCA genes, plastic surgery, and snap-in-front bras.

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